Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (32 page)

“But you were run threw . . . I saw it,” I
wrapped his arms around my neck and lifted his torso up so I could
examine his back. He grimaced as I did so.

On his lower back, I found the other side of
the injury and another large scab forming where the blade had
pierced. I placed him down tenderly and went for my dress pocket. I
then mixed some of my herbs into a salve and placed it on the
wounded areas.

My hands were trembling as I packed the
solution onto his skin. I was on the verge of sobbing again. I was
still unsure if I really had Greer back, and I wondered if he was
truly going to survive this.

He placed his hand on mine, “Do not ever do
that again,” he said softly, as he winced from the pressure I was
applying to his wounds.

“What?” I froze, thinking that the herbs had
caused him discomfort.

“Do not ever try to kill yourself again,” he
said in a stern voice.

I shook my head, “I thought you were . .
.”

He laced his fingers into mine and bade me to
come closer to him.

“I cannot die,” he whispered, “At least, I
was told that no mortal can kill me.” He kissed my hand and turned
it over in his, and then he cringed, “Your hand is cut.”

I looked down and realized that my palm had
been sliced deeply from where I had been holding the end of
Zachariah's blade.

“It is my turn to take care of you now.” He
gingerly stood up and went to a small bag that was on the
dresser.

“Why aren't we at the Inn?”

Greer sifted through the bag until he took
out a small glass bottle that contained a clear liquid in it.

“It is not safe there anymore. I have
prepared a few locations to utilize in case of emergencies. This is
one of them,” he took my hand in his, “Brace yourself,” he warned,
before pouring the liquid upon it.

It stung so badly that I almost screamed.

“It is rum. It will sterilize the wound,” he
said apologetically. He then put my herbs on the cut and wrapped it
in cotton cloth.

“Drink some of that,” he gestured to the
bottle, “It will diminish the pain . . . or at the very least, dull
it.

I shook my head, “I need to get out of my
corset first. I think I may have broken my ribs. Every time I
inhale I feel pain,” I gasped.

Greer quickly pulled my gown off me and
unlaced my corset. I instantly felt a relief of pressure, but the
pain did not diminish. I tried to breathe in deeply as a test, and
felt pain shoot across my ribcage like lightening bolts.

“They are broken,” I wheezed, as I clutched
my sides.

He went to a little dresser and took out a
shirt for me to wear, and then he turned his back so I could dress
in some semblance of privacy.

“I do not have much here. Just some basics
I'm afraid,” he said, as he changed into a pair of breeches and
stayed without a shirt.

I could see that his wounds needed to be
covered and I took my cotton underskirt and a knife that lay on the
dresser and started to rip it into long strips. Then, I wrapped
them around Greer's waist to create a bandage.

We crawled into the bed and moved in close to
each other. He pulled the cover tightly around us and we held each
other, leaving no room between our bodies. His chest lay against my
back and his arms wrapped around me.

“Aislin?”

“Yes Greer?”

“I will not be able to see you for a while,”
his voice was somber.

I turned so we were facing each other, “No.
Greer, please . . . I cannot be without you. Please stay,” I
begged.

“I was seen tonight. They know that I killed
the Governor's son,” he said calmly.

I blinked at his statement, “Zachariah was
the Mayor's son.”

He shook his head, “No, I mean the Governor's
son . . . I killed him as well.”

“The Governor's son . . . Do you mean
Clement?” I slowly asked for clarification.

The muscles of his face were taught, his jaw
line was solid as he clenched his teeth together.

“It was the only way to get Lamont away from
you. I had to create a diversion, so I made sure that the servants
saw me do it. He was guarding the front exit with Alden. My guess
is that they planned to kidnap you. That is probably why Zachariah
was at the back door, just in case you tried to escape.”

My heart was pounding so hard that my ears
were filled with the sound. I struggled for breath and closed my
eyes. “Then we will run.”

“No, you cannot run. He will find you.”

“But even if I stay, he will be able to find
me because you will not be carrying me from place to place.” I
thought my argument was perfect. He could not dispute my logic.

“You are still safer being protected by the
magic that Martha and your mother provide.”

“I cannot be without you. I know how it feels
now. I thought I lost you tonight. I cannot do it again.” I was
rambling, and to any other person it would have been inaudible, but
Greer heard every word.

“Hush my love. I will never leave you. I
promise that I will always be close by,” he whispered.

“You are injured . . . you need me,” I
protested.

“I will be fine,” he kissed me and I,
realizing that I was defeated, wept in his arms.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

We all sat in the back parlor of my parent's
home. A fire was burning brightly as we discussed the previous
night's events. Greer sat next to me on the large fainting chair,
and Sneachta sat on my lap. My mother, Martha and Becky enclosed
the circle around us with their chairs. Everyone looked tired and
worn.

The tray of empty plates that Martha had
been carrying at the Ball had crashed on top of her when Lamont's
spell caught her off guard, leaving her with many cuts and bruises.
My mother's head was also still throbbing from the remnants of
Lamont's curse.

“It was his amulet that was blocking our
spells,” Martha said.

“How did you know to break it Aislin?” Becky
asked in a quiet voice.

“I had a vision about Zachariah breaking my
pendant, and when I saw Lamont's I just knew to destroy it.”

Greer reached over and touched my amulet with
his fingertips as I continued, “I do not understand though. Why is
it that our amulets and charms did not protect us from his
curses?”

“They did Aislin,” my mother replied, “The
fact that we are all still alive is evidence of that. His curse was
meant to kill us all in one swift blow. Our magic and Greer's
actions are the only reason we are alive.”

“And Aislin's quick thinking,” Martha
interjected while smiling weakly at me.

“Do you think he is now weakened without his
amulet?” Greer inquired.

My mother nodded, “Yes, but how much I do not
know. He still has his demon to help him. Of that I am sure.”

“They are looking for you,” Becky told Greer,
“I heard them talking at the Marthaler's this morning. They are
blaming both Clement and Zachariah's deaths on you . . . and
someone else too . . .” she thought for a few moments until the
name came to her, “Jeremiah, I believe his name was . . . one of
the boys who always accompanied Zachariah. He was found dead in the
cellar of the Inn this morning.”

I looked at Greer. His face was set in
stone.

“I did not touch Jeremiah, but . . . the
other two I am responsible for,” he said.

“What happened?” Becky gasped.

Greer leaned forward a little, but then
grimaced from the pain of his injury and settled himself back
against the cushions.

“I was dancing with Abigail and turned to
see Aislin in Lamont's arms. I dismissed Abigail and went to pry
Aislin from him, but the dancers sped up to an unnatural pace.
Everything became blurred. The music was so loud that my ears
started ringing. Every time I got close enough to pull her from his
arms, they would twist away from me. There was some invisible
barrier between us that I could not break. I looked over and saw
that Deirdre was writhing on the floor and that Martha was under a
pile of broken plates. I knew that he had incapacitated them.

“I then ran outside to search for a way to
pull the crowds attention away from Aislin. I searched for a
diversion…and then, I saw a servant standing on the steps,
conversing with one of the boys. I then ran outside and searched
for a diversion…and then, I saw a servant standing on the steps,
conversing with one of the boys. I took the opportunity, and I
grabbed Clement from where the three stood. I made sure that they
witnessed me killing him… and I waited for their screams. As soon
as the servant girl shrieked, I left. Vanishing before their eyes,
I ran back into the ballroom.”

“What will you do now?” Martha asked him,
worry creasing the corners of her eyes.

“I will leave,” he replied, “I cannot protect
Aislin if I am contending with a mob of townsmen. So, I will
disappear for a while.” My hand stiffened in his. “I will not be in
contact with anyone until this is over.” He looked at me for a long
while and then continued, “I am going to find out where Lamont is
staying and who he has made allegiances with. I am sure that Mrs.
Marthaler is no longer funding him, so he will have to find other
ways to support himself. This should also allow me to protect
Aislin because everywhere Lamont is, I also will be.”

“But if you run then you are admitting your
guilt,” my mother argued, “Her father will not let her marry a
criminal.”

Greer laughed to himself, “Please do not take
this as disrespect, but I doubt that your husband's wishes could
keep me from marrying Aislin.”

I felt my face flush with color and I caught
Becky's grin, which in turn made me smile as well. We were like two
ridiculous schoolgirls sharing a moment of giddy laughter in a time
when nothing seemed to be worthy of joy—but no one else was
smiling.

Greer looked somber, and my mother and Martha
were equally tense.

“Things are only going to get worse from
here,” Martha said gravely as she stood to leave.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The Marthaler's warner, the funeral
announcer, came to the house early to tell us of Zachariah's
funeral and arrangements for the church service. My father seemed
to believe it right for us to go. After all, he had no knowledge of
what had truly transpired in the past few months.

I heard the door shut as the warner left to
visit all the other houses and invite them to the funeral service.
I did not want to go. My father had sat me down when he returned
from work to tell me that my engagement to Greer was off. Too many
rumors had circulated about him and my father did not trust Greer
anymore.

“He was not even listed at the Inn by the
name he had given me. Apparently, he gave them a Spanish name . . .
Garcés, I believe. No, he has never been truthful with us and he is
not going to drag you across the world and out of my sight. Sutphin
was correct in his estimation. He is most likely a pirate.”

My father's words normally would have enraged
me and prompted me to scream at him, but I realized that he was
only doing what he thought was best for me. He did not know Greer
the way I did. He did not understand that Garcés was his mother's
surname, and that he had to be secretive to protect me.

Although I remained calm, the mention of
Greer tore at my heart. He had said farewell to me late the
previous night, as he waited for the cover of darkness to make his
escape from town.

He promised me that he would return for me,
but with all the uncertainty that surround our lives, I knew that
there was no guarantee that I would be alive when he came back.

Greer seemed confident that he could protect
me, yet I was unsure. I sat, staring at the ground, clinching my
unwounded hand into a fist as I forced myself to accept the gravity
of our situation.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Alban Arthuan

We were all packed into the small church. The
pews barely had enough room for the number of mourners that had
arrived for the Marthaler family. Some were already weeping, and
the sound of noses being blown into kerchiefs seemed to create its
own dismal chorus.

My mother, father and I sat in our usual
spot, the middle pew on the right hand side. I saw the Marthalers
sitting in front of us in the very first row. Sutphin was with
them, and was dabbing Abigail's face with the sleeve of his
overcoat. He looked upon her differently now, and I wondered if
Greer was behind the transformation.

The Minister came before the congregation and
said the standard psalms and prayers for such an event. He then
allowed his voice to become louder as he paid tribute to the boy.
He was talking of Zachariah's 'kind nature' and 'giving spirit'.
His mother let out a few sharp cries during the eulogy and everyone
seemed to pity her. Only a few of us knew the truth.

My father shifted in the pew. Everyone was
cramped, and though snow was falling outside, the church was
stuffy. I did not bother to look up as the Minister went on and on
about Zachariah's character, but when I heard the sermon change its
timbre I slowly raised my gaze.

“Now, it has come to my attention that this
good child of God was taken from us by an unnatural and despicable
force. Indeed, it seems that all of the youth that have fallen
victim in the past few months have been the targets of the most
foul and loathsome means possible.” He waited for his words to sink
in. For the congregation to comprehend that the Minister was privy
to more information than they were, and that he alone had the
answers to this riddle. After a long paused for effect he
continued, “I am talking about witchcraft,” he scowled.

The congregation started murmuring to each
other, as terror gripped at their hearts. I knew that I had to hide
my anxiety, for fear of being dragged out into the church courtyard
and hanged.